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But she doesn’t reply.
I know then that it’s not good news. Something’s happened to stop her leaving. Cam? Almost certainly.
Maybe the guy’s got bigger balls than I thought.
I don’t hear from Philip, either, and although Rangi does text me, they’re monosyllabic messages that nevertheless tell me a lot about the atmosphere at his house.
I spend the days at home alone, and, getting irritated with myself for being morose and for drowning my sorrows in alcohol, I start on a health kick. I stop drinking, put away all the junk food, tell my chef that I only want healthy food from now on, and draw up a fitness plan. I start swimming every morning and evening, and I work out in my gym, too, giving myself a punishing routine that leaves me exhausted and aching.
It’s probably the wrong time to start because I’m about to head to Wellington for Damon’s wedding. But it gives me something to concentrate on.
So the hours pass, as they always do, and eventually it’s Thursday, and it’s time to head for the airport.
I catch an Uber, and when I arrive, I make my way to the private gate, where The Orion—Kia Kaha’s plane—is waiting. Alex is flying Missie up in his helicopter, but Gaby, Tyson, and James are already here. We board the plane, Gaby and Tyson sitting beside each other on one side of the aisle, James and I sitting across the table on the other side.
I’m nervous. I have no idea if Juliette’s even coming still, or whether she’s bringing Cam. I study my phone, my mouth going dry, and then my pulse speeds up as I hear her talking to the flight attendant behind me.
She walks down the aisle, and I look up as she passes me.
“Hey,” she says to nobody in particular.
“Hey, Juliette,” Gaby, Tyson, and James reply.
She slides across into the seat by the window opposite Tyson. Today she’s wearing long, loose, white pants and a white vest with a wave pattern in various shades of orange that suit her light-brown skin. Her hair is pinned up in a bun with a Maori bone comb. A glittery orange bindi sits between her brows.
Making herself comfortable, she puts her purse on the seat next to her, and settles in. Only then does she glance up at me.
She gives me a small, brief smile. Then she looks away, out of the window.
“No Cam?” Gaby asks her.
Juliette doesn’t look at me. “No, his brother is over from the UK, and he decided he wants to spend some time with him.”
Gaby nods and asks her something about the wedding, and the two of them continue to talk. I study my phone, even though I’m not seeing what’s on the screen.
So she’s still with him, then. But he’s not here. What does that mean?
I can’t ask her in front of everyone, though. I can only hope that at some point over the next three days I’ll be able to find an opportunity for a private conversation.
At that moment, there’s another voice behind me, and I see a look of alarm appear on James’s face. It’s Aroha, and, judging by his expression, he wasn’t expecting to see her.
She sits next to me, and I exchange an amused look with him, acknowledging that we’re both in the doghouse. It could have made for a very awkward flight, but to be fair, Aroha is pleasant and obviously keen not to make a fuss. The hour passes quickly, and soon we’re landing in Wellington and making our way to the minivan that’s come to take us to Damon’s parents’ house, Brooklyn Heights. It’s a mansion really, high on top of one of the Wellington hills, an absolutely gorgeous place.
Once we arrive, we make our way to the top terrace where we’re greeted with drinks and food. Everyone’s there, including all the guys from Auckland with their girls, and soon Alex and Missie arrive, and the mood is very jovial.
But Juliette pointedly avoids me, and I don’t get a chance to talk to her.
After lunch, we’re taken to the hotel, and as a group we sign in and make our way up to our rooms. She’s on the same floor as me, but at the other end of the corridor, and she walks away with her case without another word to me. Sighing, I go to my room and let myself in. We don’t have long before we have to leave, so I start getting ready. Today is Belle’s hen party and Damon’s stag night, and there’s a lot to get through, so I do my best to put Juliette to the back of my mind and concentrate on helping Alex—who’s Damon’s best man—to make sure that everything goes to plan.
First of all, we have a paintball game. I’m not great at paintball because I’m so big—I’m easily spotted, and my coveralls are soon covered with multicolored blotches of paint. But we have a great time, and the camaraderie is high as we return to the hotel.
We all go to our rooms to shower and change, and then it’s back to Brooklyn Heights. We’re taken to the lower terrace, which is where the pool is. The girls are on the top terrace having a beauty spa, but they’ll be joining us on the middle terrace later on tonight for a special show. They don’t know yet, but the guys are all performing a song for them, a kind of half-striptease to the Kiwi band Paua of One’s sexy song, I Scream. Alex came up with the idea about a month ago, and since then we’ve secretly come up with a routine for the song, which we’ve all been practicing. Once we have a couple of drinks down us, Alex organizes a couple of trial runs, which leads to much laughter, but is a lot of fun.
We watch a movie—Extraction 2, played on a projector onto a big screen, while we have a barbecue and a swim if we want to, or just lie on the loungers and doze, because we’re all heading toward thirty and getting old. The food is amazing—not just burgers and sausages, but steaks, kebabs, and a huge kingfish, as well as a dozen different salads, coleslaw, and homemade bread. There’s plenty of alcohol, too—beer, whisky, gin, whatever’s your poison. I put aside my fitness plan for a few days, eat what I want, and have a couple of whiskies, although I’m careful not to drink them too quickly, and I have a glass of water in between each one, because it’s going to be a long night.
The sun slips slowly toward the horizon, and it’s nearly set when Alex announces it’s time to start getting ready for the entertainment. He’s already dressed in our ‘costume’—a smart black suit, white shirt, and black bow tie, and while the rest of us get changed into similar attire, he heads up to the middle terrace, where the girls are apparently already seated.
We know he’s begun his comedy routine when we hear laughter and cheers.
